


Thought Bubbles

by TwistedViolets



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Angst, Bisexual Vanya Hargreeves, Everyone Needs A Hug, Fan-mail, Homophobia, Klaus and Vanya bonding, Klaus angst, Klaus is a good brother, Klaus is going through a rebellious phase, Reginald Hargreeves' A+ Parenting, Vanya Hargreeves-centric, Vanya is Bi but so far into the closet she doesn’t know she is, Vanya is a good sister, Vanya is soft and bitter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-01
Updated: 2019-11-05
Packaged: 2021-01-16 14:40:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21272843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwistedViolets/pseuds/TwistedViolets
Summary: Vanya has strange thoughts roaming in her head, ones that she hasn’t quite been able to understand yet. Like the steady jealousy growing for Klaus when he wears skirts, powders his face with makeup, and talks about guys like they are on the menu.She isn’t sure why she’s so jealous...she can only assume it’s because somewhere deep down she wishes she could be like him...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry I’m not sure what I want to write for the summary yet so it’ll probably be changed a few times. Anyway I’ve always wanted to experiment writing with bi Vanya so here I am.
> 
> In short this fic will feature Vanya coming to the realization that she is into girls too and her feeling the need to live in the closet until she’s shown that she doesn’t need to. Also Reggie being a one hundred percent perfect parent...or not, not at all.

She holds an umbrella over her and her father. More over him than herself because he's not happy when he's wet.

He doesn't thank her nor does he acknowledge how much this strains her back or her arm or how many times she has to stand on her tippy toes to keep him dry. He doesn't say a word to her, basically ignoring her.

He never lets her forget that he's letting her tag along. This is a privilege not a right so she must earn her keep.

She curses the rain, curses the clouds above her although she knows that the weather doesn't bow to human needs.

"Who is she?" Someone asks her father as they walk. They receive no answer.

"Monocle!" A child holds out something out over the metal railing, a letter, fan mail. He walks right past it without even a glance...she grabs it and smiles. "Thank you," the little girl coos as her mother nods at her.

The crowd pushes the child aside and shoves their fan mail in her face. She takes them all, making a pile on her left arm while she tries her best to smile at them.

She lets a droplet of water taint her father's hair, he turns to her and glares. She takes a few steps, catching up with him while holding out the umbrella over his head again.

"Sorry," she whispers, holding the letters against her chest as he stares her down.

He continues on without a word although she knows his mood has been spoiled. He walks through the gate, up the stairs, and into their home. 

She shuts the door behind them.

She digs through the pile of letters until she finds his, the only one not covered in kisses or disgustingly written on with X's and O's. She holds it out for him, he looks upon it as if it could be poisoned.

"Discard of those Seven," he spat, grasping the umbrella out of her hand. He shuts it before leaning it on the wall beside the coatrack. He takes off his coat and hangs it up.

She tries to give him his letter again and he glares.

"Number Seven, I have no use for trash." 

"It isn't..."

"I will not entertain the sugar-filled dreams of a child," he said as he walks away.

"Discard them," he tells her again, leaving her no room for debate. She nods even though he isn’t looking, holding the letters against herself.

They are somebody's words, they are a child's dream, they are so many things. Praise that she'll never see, praise that makes her bitter, praise that her siblings deserve.

She looks down at them, smiles at them, hoping her siblings will appreciate her efforts. Her wrist catches her attention...it's a dark mess now, the permanent mark smearing her once makeshift umbrella Academy logo.

The kind that 'hardcore fans' would draw on themselves.

The thought makes her stomach knot.

————————————————————

Allison opened up her fan letter which had been sealed with a kiss. She reads it over, her eyes shining bright as she presses it against her chest and giggles.

Diego didn't open his mail, he said something about real men not needing validation for good deeds.

Luther had a handful but he didn't seem as happy as Allison about them. He read them, scratched his head a little before putting them back in their envelopes.

Five had plenty, and boasted openly about the amount, although he didn't find the concept of fan mail all that appealing. He said it objectified them too much for his liking but nonetheless he enjoyed reading them occasionally. 

Today wasn't one of those days.

Ben had a few letters but he didn't regard them with any importance.

She sits, observes them and receives no praise for her efforts. She did this for them because she knew that although they may not say it outright they all did enjoy their fan-mail to some extent.

She smiles, placing her elbow on the arm of the couch before putting her head in her hand. She sighs against her palm, letting the dip of jealousy in her stomach pass.

Klaus is silent, looking at his letter before crumpling it up. He stands and throws the paper in the steady flames of the living room fire, then he leaves, frowning, his eyes glassed over like he might be on the edge of crying.

She wants to run after him but Diego is already moving. He drops his letter and mutters something to Ben before chasing after Klaus.

She feels her heart constrict as she looks into the flame, watching as the letter burns and unfolds itself. She can clearly see in big red letters the word 'Faggot' messily written on it.

"How terrible," Allison mutters, standing and holding her hand out for her sibling's letters. She takes them all and throws them in the fire. 

Discarding them as their father had originally intended.

"We should go talk to him..." Ben adds, watching the letters burn before there's a noise of agreement.

They all leave without a word to her.

She stands, holds her father's letter against her chest for a moment before throwing it in the flames. She's letting her anger get the best of her...

Nobody ever defends her like this.

She feels her stomach twist again, jealousy flaring up before a deep breath calms the growing flames. It’s only natural for her to be jealous of Klaus, she tells herself as her simmering flames are dying out in her chest.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly there’s going to be a lot of Vanya and Klaus bonding in this eventually so prepare yourself.

Klaus is in a better mood, she figures he got a good amount of love from their siblings. A lot of sweet words and hugs, he probably felt loved, felt for a moment like that cruel word written on that letter meant nothing.

She doesn't say anything, she can't right now because he's busy training. She will later though, maybe, if she gathers up the courage to tell him she doesn't think he should listen to those stupid people.

She sits on the stairs, watching, her father holds a bell in his hand.

Klaus watches it intensely as if he's a cat staring down a mouse. He bites his lip, waiting as patiently as he can manage. 

Their father begins to lift his wrist, Klaus bolts up the stairs right by her as the ding begins to echo around them. It's a moment of just a faint dinging as she looks at her father, at the way he shifts his focus from the bell to a stopwatch.

She hears running, Klaus sprints past her, back down the stairs before stopping in front of their father. His mask now on his face, his uniform all buttoned up and proper. He looks ready for an Umbrella Academy mission now.

Their father stops the stopwatch, he looks at it for a moment with plastered on indifference before nodding. 

"An adequate performance,” he says, placing the stopwatch in his coat pocket before pulling out his journal and writing inside.

Klaus presses his hands against his knees, leaning down, panting, taking in all of the oxygen he needs. He wipes off his mouth as he catches his breath, standing up straight, a small grin forming on his lips.

His father frowns at this.

Klaus's smile almost melts off his lips.

"Do not be proud of your preformance Number Four, I expect you to do much better." 

The words are cruel, she knows, she can feel how harsh they are and they aren't even directed towards her. If she were to imagine the words as physical things they would be made of glass because they cut through the skin so easily.

Klaus nods as he stares at the floor, feeling the full effects of those words on his shoulders.

————————————————————

"I don't...don't," she stops, the stuttering is too embarrassing. She's just trying to give her brother some comfort, peace of mind, but it's hard.

He tilts his head back, placing a cigarette against his lips before inhaling. He blows smoke out of the attic window as he narrows his eyes at her.

"I...um," she takes a deep breath, steadying herself. "It's okay...that you like boys," she whispers, clenching her skirt as she speaks.

His lips curl into a small smile around the cigarette, his eyes shutting for a moment as he inhales. He blows more smoke out the window with a slight laugh. His chest heaving as he presses a hand against his neck, rubbing there awkwardly.

"Of course my bucket of sunshine, liking the same sex is wonderful and should be done regularly to reduce blood pressure," he's laughing as he speaks, sarcasm lacing its way through his voice.

She blushes, feeling self-conscious from the way he's almost talking down to her like...he doesn't believe her.

He takes a final puff before tossing the cigarette out the window, its end still glowing red as it falls. "I'm joking," he says as he pats her shoulder gently, a silent thank you. "I know what you mean."

She gives him a pat too, trying her best anyway but he's already walking away. She walks behind him, two steps behind, her voice hiding in her throat. A spark of jealousy flowing through her although she can't pinpoint why or where it stems from.

It's as if she just...wants to be him...

She wants to like suits the same way he likes skirts, she wants to own the fact that she doesn't wear makeup, she wants to be okay with those thoughts in the back of her head. The ones that naw at her brain, the ones that won't leave her alone.

It happens late at night, when her siblings get together and talk about their fans. Klaus talks with Allison about the fan boys and how cute they are. Her other brothers talk about the girls, how pretty they are and how mature their audience is getting. She listens intently outside of their door...agreeing with them, all of them.

She swallows that thought down, stopping her movement, letting Klaus get away as she tries to ignore her thoughts.

She thinks for a moment...that she likes girls...a little bit. Some part of her finds them cute like Diego does and maybe she’s thought once or twice about dating them...or maybe she doesn't even like girls, she could be projecting on Klaus.

She doesn't know but she knows he sparks those thoughts in her. When she looks at him she thinks for that brief minute it must be nice to be him. 

Although she knows it isn't, he's picked on, he's called names, father has given him too many punishments...but still, he's always been himself. She knows she'll never be him, she will never be able to handle teasing or being yelled.

She could never take the heat like he does and come out unscathed.

She blows out a breath as she shuts the attic door behind her. She knows why he sparks strange thoughts but some part of her doesn't want to face it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a slow bisexual burn and I’m not sorry. It probably won’t actually pick up plot wise for another few short chapters so bare with me. <3

"Please...don't do this," she whispers, her hand over her mouth, eyes squinted against the visions that fill her. Bad things, things she knows will come if Klaus doesn't get some sense knocked into him.

"Excuse me?" He says, pointing a brush at her, it's end pink from the makeup he's applied to his eyes.

"You can't...father will-" he makes a noise before rolling his eyes.

"Are you just here to ridicule me?"

She shakes her head, taking a step towards him only to have a glare shot in her direction. She clenches a hand in her skirt, her mind stuck on the image of her father seeing Klaus, seeing him with makeup on and a skirt around his hips.

She takes a deep breath, her heart beating in her ear, loud, erratic. It's a terrifying thought because she knows he'd be punished. Their father would scrunch up his nose and say cruel things to him. 

Like the people who send him letters.

"You sound like him," he mutters, slamming the makeup brush on the bathroom sink. He looks towards her with heat behind his eyes.

"I just..." she doesn't want him to get hurt.

"You just what? Don't Like the skirt? Is the makeup disgusting? Do you think I care?"

She takes a step back, her eyes looking everywhere that's not him. None of that is true but her voice just won't work. Her eyes water, her hands shake as she turns and takes a step to run.

He grabs her hand, rubbing a finger against her palm as he blows a breath in her ears. She clenches her eyes and slaps his chest.

"You are a jerk!" She mumbles, rubbing her ear.

"I'm joking, I swear you are too gullible," he laughs as he gives her a pat on the back. "Don't worry so much I know what I'm doing, this, dearest sister is simply a rebellious phase!" He actually sounds proud as he speaks...as if he just doesn't have any idea of the horror that lies behind making such a statement.

Their father won't like this, no not at all.

"But-" 

"But nothing, don't you see the potential in this? This is our-my time to shine. Father can't hold me down forever!"

"You make bad decisions unsupervised," Five says, appearing almost out of thin air beside her, his lips pulled up in a smug smile. "This is why we can never trust you do anything other than lookout," Five crosses his arms across his chest as he speaks.

Klaus pouts, looking to the side as a slight blush crawls across his cheek. "I am perfectly fine on my own," he says, talking to Five.

She isn't part of this conversation anymore. 

She is never when they're not alone.

————————————————————

It's Saturday, there are thirty minutes of free time, it's supposed to be for their mental health. To give them just a moment of rest with the illusion that they can do whatever they please.

For the most part that's true, Father ignores them so they get an ounce of free will.

He'd kill Klaus though, he would if he saw the pink eyeshadow on his eyelids or the yellow and green spotted skirt on his hips. He looks like he just walked off one of those drag magazines, the kind their father sticks his nose up at.

"I've got errands to run," her father says as he puts on his coat. "Are you coming Seven?" He asks, his voice is more matter of fact than anything as if he's not asking but telling her she's coming.

She nods, it isn't like she needs the free time considering she isn't part of the Umbrella Academy. It's deeper than that it's the fact that she can feel Klaus's gaze, she can almost hear his thoughts as he stands on the second floor, dressed as a princess. He is working up the courage to stick it to the man or something, she isn't sure that's exactly what he said but she can't let him do it.

His rebellious phase is going to get him in trouble.

She follows behind her father as he sticks a hand in his pocket and his other on his monocle, adjusting it as they leave.

She is being a good sister right? Good sisters keep their less than normal brothers out of trouble...right?

————————————————————

Errands errands errands, so many yet so little.

He drives to the bank and instructs her to wait in the car, which she does. Just staring out the window while he leaves, while he disappears inside the building. Then it's silent and she's half tempted to turn on the radio but she knows if he heard it he wouldn't be pleased.

She hums instead, up and down, low pitches and high pitches. A childish thing some might say buts she's bored, so it's excused right?

Right.

Her father comes out, a bag in his hand. He opens the car door and hands it to her, she takes it before he gets in the car.

There's money inside, stacks of twenties. Why would he need so much cash? He never usually carries cash nor has it in the house- as far as she knows.

Although he has to have some hidden somewhere.

She holds the bag, leaning her head against the window as her father begins to drive. She asks no question, she doesn't speak unless spoken to, she is an obedient child.

"Do you believe in luck?" He asks, his eyes staring at the road ahead.

She stares at it too for a moment.

"I suppose I do...a little bit." She says, feeling her stomach knot up. It's just bad luck that she turned out ordinary...or maybe good luck depending on who you ask. To her, it's bad luck, too much bad luck gathered at the wrong time.

It's nothing but a curse to her.

"I see," he says before going silent. 

There is no more conversation even as they pull in front of their house and fans start to make an uproar behind shiny metal railings.

"Monocle!" The crowd is yelling, making a scene about him, her father. Do they like him or do they just project their love of the Umbrella Academy on him? She isn't sure, although she is absolutely sure he is disgusted by them.

The crowd who objectives them and in turn him. They always cry and beg to join the Umbrella or they cry and beg for an autograph.

Either option has yet to happen.


End file.
